Hell

Translations from the German
by
Anthony Weir

Bertolt Brecht
CONSIDERING HELL

Considering Hell,
my brother Shelley thought
it must be much like London.
Since I live in Los Angeles and not London
I think Hell is more like
Los Angeles.

In Hell, too, there must be luxuriant gardens
with flowers big as trees
which of course wither at once
if not fed
with rich people's water.
And fruit-markets where great piles of fruit
have no smell, have no taste.
And endless convoys of cars
as light as their shadows, faster than impulses -
gleaming conveyances in which well-fed people
go nowhere from nowhere.
And houses
built for the happy, thus standing empty
even when lived in.

The houses in Hell, too, aren't
all of them ugly,
but the fear of being dumped on the street
oppresses the suburbanites no less than the shanty-town squatters.

a note on Hell

MTC Cronin
HITLER

In hell, Hitler is forced
to protect his anonymity.

He paints walls and cadavers
and sniffs fumes of the dead;

he eats the ashes of children
and drinks blood from a funnel;

hammered into his mouth
are many pulled gold teeth; but mostly

he sits forgotten on the chair
just inside hell's door.

Heiner Müller
BRECHT

He lived indeed in dark times.

The times have got brighter.

The times have darkened.

When brightness says I am darkness

It speaks the truth.

When darkness says I

am brightness, it tells no lie.

Bertolt Brecht
SURABAYA-JOHNNY

a much-translated song
from Happy End (1929)
scanned to music by Kurt Weill

I was young – God, only sixteen,
You came up from Burma one night,
You told me to go away with you –
you'd look after things, see me right.
I asked what you did to get money –
God help me! you said to me
that you'd something to do with the railway
and nothing to do with the sea.
You said so much, Johnny.
Not a word was true, Johnny. You shot me a line.
I hate you so much, Johnny,
as you stand there smirking
– take that pipe out of your gob, you swine.

Surabaya-Johnny, why are you such a brute ?
Surabaya-Johnny, God! how much I love you!
Surabaya-Johnny, why doI feel so blue ?
You have no heart, Johnny, and I love you, I do.

At first every day was like Sunday
– until I went off with you.
But then, after only a fortnight
there was nothing right I could so.
Up and down through th Punjab,
down the river and on to the sea...
A face that looks about forty
stares out of the mirror at me.
It wasn't love you wanted, Johnny.
You wanted cash, Johnny.
But I only looked at your mouth's sweet line.
You asked for everything, Johnny.
I gave you more, Johnny –
Take that pipe out of your gob, you swine!

Surabaya-Johnny, why are you such a brute ?
Surabaya-Johnny, God! how much I love you!
Surabaya-Johnny, why do I feel so blue ?
You have no heart, Johnny, and I love you, I do.

I never really wondered
why you had that name.
But up and down the coastline
you had a certain fame.
In a sixpenny bed one morning
I will hear the roar of the sea,
and you'll leave without any warning
and your ship will be in at the quay.
You have no heart, Johnny.
You're a bum, Johnny.
You're leaving me, Johnny, tell me why.
I love you in spite of all, Johnny
like the very first day, Johnny
– take that pipe out of your gob, you swine!

Surabaya-Johnny, why are you such a brute ?
Surabaya-Johnny, God! how much I love you!
Surabaya-Johnny, why doI feel so blue ?
You have no heart, Johnny, and I love you, I do.

Bertolt Brecht
ELEPHANT SONG

from The Good Woman of Sichuan (1942)
scanned to music by Paul Dessau

Seven elephants had Mr Chin
He also had an eighth one
Seven were wild and the eighth was tame
So the eighth was appointed foreman.
Move faster! Move faster!
This woodland's for the plough.
It must be cleaared before night falls
an it's almost night-time now.

Seven elephants clearred the trees away
andd Mr Chin rode on top of the eighth one.
Number eight stood idly 'on guard' each day
and noted what the others dragged behind them.
Pull harder! Pull harder!
This woodland's for the plough.
It must be cleared before night falls
and it's almost night-time now.

Seven elephants wanted no more.
They'd had enough of tree-clearing.
Mr Chin was afraid that the seven would renegue
so he gave a sack of rice to the eighth one.
Good tactic!
Good tactic!
This woodland's for the plough.
It must be cleared before night falls
and it's almost night-time now.

Seven elephants had no tusks.
The ivory was on the eighth one.
Number 8 was the gaffer while they wore themselves out
and the boss was pleased with his performance.
Pull harder! Pull harder!
This woodland's for the plough.
It must be cleared before night falls
and it's almost night-time now.

Another version with different music on youTube

>> Six translations of a poem by Rilke >>

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